


Parum

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-02-21
Updated: 2000-02-21
Packaged: 2018-11-10 22:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Fraser and Turnbull find something neither of them expected.This story is a sequel toConscientia.





	Parum

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Parum

Title: Parum

Author: necessary angel

Pairing: BF/RT

Rating: NC17 if m/m interaction bothers you, walk on by.

Disclaimer: Not mine Santa really let me down this year;)

Notes: Fraser and Turnbull find something neither of them expected. This is set some time after Bird in the Hand but no spoilers and no plot to mess things up. Many thanks to Kasha for betaing this and for general encouragement and title suggestions. And thanks also to Megan for her fine and dandy editing skills:)

Feedback: Yes please 

necessary_angel@yahoo.com

For Kasha, Latonya and Te because they opened my eyes

 

Parum

by necessary angel

He doesn't do that enough. Laugh, I mean. 

Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police is leaning against the wall, just inside the front door of my apartment, laughing so hard that he can't walk. My own laughter stops in my throat at the sight and my mouth is dry. 

I didn't think I would find this in Chicago. I didn't think I would find something this simple and basic ever again. 

He catches me watching him and his shoulders snap straight. I knew he would notice; nothing much escapes his tracker's eyes. He is looking at me now, a little wary; the laughter is gone but the smile stays this time.

I am sure he doesn't have the faintest idea what that does to me. 

"Ren?" he asks, traces of laughter still in his voice.

He's the only one who's ever called me that. I like it. More and more each time he says it.

"Benton." 

My tone is harsher than I intended and I am moving, walking towards him. I have no idea, for the first time in a long time, what my face is showing. Those bright blue eyes are wide but he stands his ground. 

I stop moving when my chest touches his; his muscles are firm under the layers of cotton he is wearing. He makes a funny little gasp and his head tilts back so that he can keep looking at my face.

We stare at each other until I am only aware of the planes of his face and the thud of my heart in my bones. Benton's eyes close and he licks his lips. 

"Benton." 

I intended it as a question but instead the word rasps out of my throat and I take what I was going to ask for. His mouth is still beneath mine for a few long, dragging seconds, and my stomach churns as if I was standing on deck. His hand slides onto my neck and anything that was tentative about the kiss disappears. His other hand is on my back, pressing me hard against him. I slip one thigh between his legs and he groans into my mouth.

Benton pushes away from the wall and we are stumbling backwards, still tasting each other. I tighten my grip around his jaw and he releases my mouth with a little flicker of his tongue against the corner. I shiver and he smiles, bright and wicked. 

I am dizzy with adrenaline. This.... Benton is breaking through to something I thought I had buried. I should stop this but I know I'm not going to even try.

I slide my hands under the layers of his shirts. He raises his head at the touch of my hand against the smooth, warm skin of his back. I take my chance and press my mouth hard against his. I don't want him to speak, I don't want him to think and most of all ... I don't want to think.

He sucks in his breath at the brush of my fingers against the slight curve of his belly; I push harder with my fingertips and he moans. The sound and vibration heightens my arousal and my fingers twitch against his skin.

This isn't going to stop. My hands are wanton now, because he isn't going to stop this, stroking and gripping the firm supple warmth of his skin.

Somehow we are in my bedroom. Benton's capable fingers are swift and sure on the buttons of my denim shirt. I have managed to divest him of his layers on our floundering journey. My shirt hits the floor before we've taken more than a couple of steps towards my bed. 

His hands move to my jeans and I drag myself away from looking at his pale chest. He might be the only person I have seen like this who is as pale as I am myself. Benton may be smaller and slighter than myself but the power and strength are there. 

He is chuckling slightly. "May I suggest you help out here?"

"Of course." My fingers are surprisingly steady as I undo his jeans.

I never expected to see him like this, with his skin flushed and his eyes gleaming. Never expected to feel him thick and hot even through the cotton of his boxers. 

His hips push into my carefully light touch and I chuckle. 

"What do you want?" I am croaking the words but somehow they make sense.

His eyebrows lift slightly and he sounds just as ragged. "What ever comes along." 

I step out of my jeans and underwear. I am hardly aware of what I am doing; every part of my attention is on him. The flex and bunch of the muscles in his back as he bends to unlace his hiking boots make my fingers twitch. His smile is a little self-conscious as he pushes his boxers down over his hips, but there is invitation and warmth enough in his eyes for that not to matter.

I step closer, manoeuvring him back to the bed. He moans and rubs his erection against mine as I cover him. I can feel his power and strength as he moves and I have to kiss him again. Benton uses his mouth and tongue to the full. I know what he does, how he uses his tracking skills and it thrills me to feel him doing the same thing to me. 

His mouth is on my neck now, his teeth pressing against the point where it meets my shoulder. Every time I move tomorrow I'll feel his mark. I push myself hard against his cock and he moans again. His breath seems to burn against his mark.

I trail my mouth down to the puckered flesh of his right nipple. He is sensitive there and his hips buck as my teeth close around it. His strong thighs are clasped around my hips now and he is moaning wildly. I had no idea he would be this loud. Every shamelessly rich sound is making the pulse pound harder in my body. 

The curve of his ribs seems absurdly fragile under my tongue and teeth, so I ease back on the pressure. His hands slide into my hair, kneading my scalp and I hear the little groan that he drags out of me with some surprise. He has barely touched me yet but every nerve in my body is vibrating. 

I take my mouth lower to the firm strength of his thighs. His hands are tighter in my hair now but he makes no move to direct me. He twists and arches under the scrape of my teeth along the taut muscles of his thighs.

I raise my head. His face is gleaming in the lamplight and his eyes are dazed. Benton nods, teeth digging into his lips. I smile and his lips quirk. I give into what I've wanting to do and taste his cock. He tastes good. The slide of my tongue along the thick, twitching length isn't enough for either of us and I take all of him in my mouth. He gasps and starts his nearly constant moaning again.

I clamp my hands on his hips and let myself fall into the thick press of him in my mouth. His hands move on my head and I let him slip almost free. He smiles and his fingers twist in my hair but he lets me have my way. It goes on and on. He is in deep enough to make it nearly perfect. I carefully drag my teeth along his length and receive my name wrapped in his loudest moan yet as a reward.

I draw it out as long as I can, until he is frantic and his hips are driving against my hands. I give in and open myself up to the fast push and thrust of him against my throat. He comes in a long ragged burst that ends too quickly for me.

He looks boneless as I pull myself up along side him. His hand reaches out and strokes my chest. He licks his lips and his mouth opens and closes. I shake my head and lean down for the gentlest kiss we have exchanged so far.

The sparkle in his eyes as he breaks the kiss and pushes me on to my back warms me almost more than anything else this evening. I want him to look like that more often. His weight is just right as he straddles my hips. 

His mouth is on mine again and his tongue is tangling insistently with mine. I could kiss Benton like this all night but he has other ideas. That comprehensive mouth is busy on my neck, and down along the line of my shoulder. His teeth press in marking me carefully. They won't show, but every one of those marks will be pressing and rubbing against my uniform tomorrow.

He is more direct in his approach than I was but he is still taking far too long. I can feel every part of my body; every swipe of his tongue seems to move over all my skin, not just the part he is concentrating on. He hovers over my cock at last and I just look at him. I have no words left at this point. 

He dips his tongue in to taste the tip. Then there is only the slick tight warmth of his mouth wrapped around me. My hands are in the damp silk of his hair and he is letting me set the rhythm. I am falling hard and fast. I wanted this to last but I am spinning out of control. I bite my lip to contain the scream I want to make and thrust hard into the hot wetness. I am coming and the scream escapes as a choked moan.

Benton licks me clean and slides up next to me. I stare at him for a moment and he pulls me into his warmth. I hold myself tight and still and then let myself go. He sighs as I settle against him.

I trace the rise of his pectoral muscle with my tongue. I can feel his breathing evening out beneath me and when I lift my head a few minutes later Benton is asleep. 

He murmurs in protest as I move away but doesn't wake up. I ease myself into my jeans and, instead of leaving the room, I stand there watching him.

I hadn't expected to find this when I came to Chicago, and I already know it isn't going to last. But it is enough, more than enough.

End

Additional note: Parum is Latin for "Not enough."


End file.
